


And Then, There Was Tequila

by AgentCoop



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alcohol, Anger, Angst, Exy (All For The Game), Fist Fights, Gratuitous Aaron feelings, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Aaron Minyard, Possibly Unrequited Love, Self-Hatred, Snark, Therapy, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:07:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27691861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentCoop/pseuds/AgentCoop
Summary: The test was marked in red ink, pen scoring paper almost deep enough to tear.43%Fail.***Andrew has NeilNicky has EricKevin has ExyAaron has an existential crisis eating a hole through his liver.
Relationships: Katelyn/Aaron Minyard, Kevin Day/Aaron Minyard, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 11
Kudos: 113





	And Then, There Was Tequila

**Author's Note:**

> I am whole-heartedly, unapologetically obsessed with KevAaron right now, so I set off to write a fic where they kissed.
> 
> Instead, I got *this* angst-fest.
> 
> ***
> 
> NOTE: I had a few comments about Andrew's actions in this being upsetting. I'm going to copy/paste my reasoning on that in the end notes for anyone curious :)
> 
> ***
> 
> Kudos fuel me, comments are my lifeblood, thank you so much in advance for reading <3

The test was marked in red ink, pen scoring paper almost deep enough to tear.

43%

Fail.

Aaron rubbed at his eyes and tried to take it in again, tried to fold the edge of the paper over the top so the assholes behind him couldn’t see the number. He quickly raked his eyes over the dozens of questions marked with red.

He’d studied for this. He’d pulled so many one-nighters, he’d lived in the library for the last two weeks, he’d barely been able to find the energy for the obligatory exy practices that were devouring every last moment of time he had, and none of it mattered because he fucking failed.

“Fuck,” the girl sitting next to him whispered.

He looked up, saw her eyes watering, and shoved the test deep in his bag, standing and leaving the classroom before he had to listen to someone else have a complete fucking meltdown.

They had a game that night that he barely managed to make it through because his body was exhausted, his brain was going nuclear, and all he wanted to do was get plastered and sleep for the next century.

Luckily, as soon as the buzzer hit and the Foxes rushed off the court victoriously once more, he had the option.

“Columbia?” Nicky asked, puppy dog excitement flashing all over his face.

“Columbia,” Andrew affirmed.

Aaron didn’t say anything because it didn’t matter. He wasn’t allowed to have an opinion, he just followed Andrew because Andrew was a black hole of destruction that pulled everyone into his orbit.

Eden’s was packed as Eden’s was always packed on a Friday night. Aaron didn’t mind–it was easier to disappear this way. They dusted, they drank, they danced, they drank some more, and for a little while, nothing else mattered but the lights and sound. 

Aaron was sweating by the time he pushed another empty drink across the bar and scowled as Roland quirked an eyebrow.

“Aaron,” he bit out. 

Roland gave a sheepish grin, then reached for the empty glass. “I knew that!”

“Sure.”

“Another?”

Aaron was on the fast track to sloppy drunk, but that wasn’t about to stop him. Nicky was still out on the dance floor, Neil and Andrew were sitting at the back corner table in the dark, creepily watching each other without saying anything at all, and Aaron was very much alone.

“Three shots. Vodka.”

He hated vodka, but Kevin liked vodka, and Kevin was hanging over the railing of the balcony, watching the chaos below and looking almost as lost as Aaron felt, so it would suffice.

Roland grabbed the bottle of Gray Goose, already more than familiar with their orders, and pushed the shots over. Downing one, Aaron muttered his thanks, then took the other two with him over to the rail.

Kevin didn’t even look up, just reached a hand out and took the glass, swallowing it easily before handing it back.

“Asshole,” Aaron muttered. 

“You offered.”

“I…” Aaron shrugged helplessly, because he kind of did, and Kevin was Kevin, and none of that was ever going to change. “Whatever.”

He finished his drink, set the glasses on an empty table, then stepped up to the railing and leaned over the sticky rails, watching the flashing strobe lights and the pulse of bodies down below. 

“You aren’t dancing,” Kevin said.

“Nope.”

“The backliners were shit tonight.”

Aaron heaved an enormous sigh because once again. Kevin was fucking Kevin. “Could we not?”

“You aren’t saying anything else. The game was closer than it should have been. We’re lucky Neil was out there covering for your ass.”

Aaron’s jaw clenched, and he focused all his energy into not tightening his hands to fists and punching Kevin in the face. “You need more vodka.”

Kevin blinked, then pushed himself off the rail and turned towards Aaron. “I always need more vodka.” 

His movements were sluggish, just like Aaron’s vision was sluggish, and drugs weren’t an option, but alcohol did a decent enough job of eating away loneliness, so Aaron followed him back up to the bar.

***

Because it was Kevin, he managed to talk an entire bottle of Grey Goose out of Roland. Tables were in short supply at Edens, and Neil and Andrew were still hogging theirs, so they hazily made their way down to the second floor and around an alcove that was curiously empty, and ever so slightly quieter than the dance floor.

Even with an ungodly amount of liquor in his system, Kevin kept laying out court strategy, so Aaron just kept snagging the bottle, trying to keep up, trying to focus enough on Kevin’s mouth to make out what words he was saying, trying to not think about– 

“I failed a chem exam,” he blurted.

That. That was the thing he was trying not to think about. 

Kevin gave his head a little shake and looked down at Aaron, blinking owlishly around dust-dilated eyes. “Huh?”

Aaron hated him. He took another long drink then handed the bottle back. “Organic chem. Failed the midterm. Not sure I can pass the class without that.”

Kevin seemed to consider this for a second. “But...why?”

“Why what? I failed. End of story. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

That seemed to ease some of the confusion in Kevin’s face, and he nodded. “You don’t need organic chem.”

Somewhere behind them, the beat dropped, the music changed, and the entire dance floor started to scream. “I literally do,” Aaron muttered, tongue tripping on _literally_ because he was drunk, and drunk Aaron was a mess, and drunk Aaron wished more than anything that he could just pop some pain pills and pass out somewhere for the next 24 hours, or the next 24 years, or maybe something longer.

Somewhere above them, Neil was probably still looking at Andrew, and hypocrite asshole Andrew was probably looking right back at him, and Aaron wondered how much it would cost him to find another asshole to smack Neil in the head and knock him out ala last year.

Better times.

“But…” Kevin was looking at him completely lost, and also completely drunk.

His eyes were green.

Why were his eyes so green?

“Need chem,” Aaron finally said, trying to shake the word green out of his vocabulary. “Pre-med. Need it.”

“But Exy.”

“Yeah, fuck exy. Fuck it. I don’t give a shit–”

Kevin dropped the bottle and it shattered beneath their feet, shards of glass sparkling in the neon lights.

Aaron didn’t notice, because Kevin had stepped up so close, had braced an arm against the wall, had one finger shoved against Aaron’s chest and was glaring at him with–

Nope. Not green.

“Move, asshole,” Aaron said, but he didn’t try to push away, because the wall was at his back and he was pretty sure it was the only thing still holding him up.

Kevin was still glaring. “You just need to listen. You could probably play exy instead if you just practiced more. You could improve. Like…” he frowned. “You look like Andrew when you do that.”

“It’s my face, idiot,” Aaron muttered.

“No, like...yeah that!” Kevin grinned. “When you frown like that.”

Aaron scowled even harder.

“Now you just look angry. Andrew is scarier when he’s angry.”

“I’m done now.” Aaron ducked under Kevin’s arm and stomped through the shattered glass on the floor, taking impossible amounts of delight in how it ground to nothing underneath his boots.

***

Katelyn still wasn’t speaking to him.

He wasn’t going to show up for therapy–he’d tried that and all Andrew did was smirk at him and cross his arms, and play sad little puppy dog for Dr. Dobson who in turn, focused all her attention on memories that Aaron very specifically did not want to talk about. 

He tried to explain it to Katelyn; that it was all a game to Andrew, that it wasn’t going to actually do any good, that Neil Josten was the biggest fucking asshole in the world who had no business sticking his nose into other people’s shit.

“I’m trying too,” she said, leaning against the open door frame, eyes tired and sad. “This isn’t just about you.” She gestured towards him. “I want more than this.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m tired, Aaron. I love you. You know that. But the hiding and the sneaking around...it’s ridiculous. You both need to work this out. And I’m out until you do.”

She didn’t close the door on him. Instead, she reached out, wrapped a hand around his neck and pressed her forehead against his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, perfect mouth moving around words he didn’t want to hear.

So that was that.

***

The stale sweat smell of the locker rooms never went away, no matter how often the cleaning people bleached. Most of the Foxes were already heading out to the court for practice, but Aaron was running late because he’d stopped at his chem professor’s office hours to get on his hands and knees and beg for some way to retake the exam.

It didn’t work. He knew it wouldn’t work. 

He slammed his locker closed so hard the entire wall of metal shook, then he forced padding down over his shoulders and bent down to lace up his shoes.

Aaron had been someone once.

Once, he’d had hopes and dreams and desires and yeah, they were shitty hopes and dreams and desires, but they were still his. Then Andrew came along, smashing through Aaron’s life with all the finesse of a hurricane. 

He kept playing Exy because Andrew said so.

He didn’t have other friends because Andrew said so.

He didn’t have a mom because–

Aaron grit his teeth as hard as he could and finished lacing his shoes, then grabbed his helmet and ran out to join the team.

“Nice of you to join us,” Wymack called out as he jogged across the court.

Kevin turned with a glare, warning reflecting bright in his eyes.

 _You could probably play exy instead if you just practiced more,_ he’d said in the bar.

Probably.

Probably wasn’t ever going to be good enough–not for exy, not for pre-med, and not for Katelyn. 

Aaron bumped into Kevin hard enough to make him stumble, then stepped up to the circle and listened to Wymack order them all into laps.

Normally, Aaron didn’t like running. Today, he shot down the side of the court and tuned everyone else out as best he could. Wymack was yelling at Andrew to actually run instead of lazily saunter. The girls were jogging together. Matt and Nicky had torn after Neil and they seemed to be in some sort of dumbass competition to see who could catch up first.

And Kevin obnoxiously came up on Aaron’s left and timed his pace almost exactly, forcing Aaron up against the side of the court with no way around him.

“What was that for?” Kevin hissed under his breath.

“Tripped.”

“You need to get your head in the game–”

Aaron’s hand shot out and he gripped Kevin by the back of the jersey, pulling them both to an abrupt halt. “Or what? Or I won’t make a pro-team? Or Wymack will bench me? Or I’ll get kicked off the Foxes? What a tragedy to never see your face again.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Kevin growled. He put his hands against Aaron’s chest and shoved, Aaron put his hands against Kevin’s face and shoved, Kevin got him pinned against the wall just as Aaron jerked back then sucker punched him right in the gut, hard enough that Kevin dropped to his knees with a pathetic whimpering sound.

“Fuck. You.” Aaron said.

“Minyard!” Wymack belted out, jogging towards them both.

Andrew just happened to walk past Aaron at that moment and give his asinine two-fingered salute. Aaron flipped him off.

“Whatever the issue is,” Wymack growled, holding a hand to Kevin and hauling him back up to his feet. “Fix it off the court. We’re here for exy, not for a bar brawl. Clear?”

“Clear,” Kevin said, shooting a glare at Aaron.

“Minyard?”

Aaron glared right back and barely held off on stomping on Kevin’s foot. “Sure thing, coach.”

“Good. Now run.”

Kevin took off without looking back, leaving Aaron to follow.

***

The next game was an easy win. The orange and white crowd still went wild, the backliners were apparently acceptable enough for Kevin not to comment, and Wymack actually smiled.

It looked weird on his face.

Nicky gave an exuberant fistpump in the air as they headed back down the tunnel to the locker rooms. Matt took it up next, and then Dan, and then fans were leaning down over them for high fives and catcalls, and Aaron wondered when it happened, when they all became a team instead of a fractured mess, and why it still didn’t fill the gaping void instead of his chest.

They made plans for a party in the basement complete with the Vixens, and even though Aaron had no desire to be anywhere near Katelyn, Allison was buying; free alcohol was free alcohol was free alcohol.

Two hours later, he was leaning up against one of the obnoxious orange footstools halfway through a bottle of tequila and well on his way to knocking himself out, when Andrew and Neil wandered in.

In true form, Dan and Matt whooped at their arrival, money was exchanged between Nicky and Allison, Neil looked confused, and Andrew looked bored. The cheerleaders were all on one side of the room, but the good ole original gang was predictable as ever in their close knit little circle. Andrew and Neil wandered over and sat down in between Allison and Kevin and Andrew stared across at Aaron as he reached for a bottle of whiskey.

“Missed you on Wednesday,” he smirked, taking a long drink. “Betsy says hi.”

Aaron ignored him in favor of topping off his own cup of tequila.

“So!” Matt announced. “Truth or dare? Never have I ever? Some other far more boring drinking game that will be nowhere near as fun?”

“Did you really wait for us to start with the games?” Neil asked.

Nicky shook his head and toasted the empty air with his empty cup. “Leave no man behind, Neil!” He announced. “More tequila please!”

Aaron hated drinking games, but he also hated being alone, and he hated that he hated being alone, and fuck, his cup was empty again so he filled it, and Kevin took another long drink from his own bottle of vodka, and why was he looking at Kevin because he hated Kevin too–

“Lovers quarrel over?” Andrew piped up, feral gleam in his eye.

“Fuck off,” Aaron muttered.

“Yeah,” Kevin said, raising his bottle. His eyes were hooded and unsteady, and he looked two minutes from falling over. “Fuck. That. That. Yeah?”

Aaron fixed his eyes on the greying, dusty carpet and fought so hard not to shove him.

“I’m first!” Nicky announced.

Dan groaned dramatically. “Again?”

“No one else was volunteering!” 

“Whatever,” Matt chimed in. “Nicky’s first. Renee? Allison? You good?”

“$300 that Kevin pukes first, $50 that Andrew and Neil leave within five minutes to go freaky-intense-stare at each other some more, another $50 that after Kevin pukes, he orders us all back to the court for practice,” Allison said.

Neil’s cheeks reddened, but he didn’t say anything.

Andrew inspected his nails.

Kevin took another drink and swayed himself right over onto Aaron’s shoulder. This time, Aaron did shove him.

“I’m not taking any of those bets,” Dan said. “Not a single one.”

“No fun,” Allison huffed.

The alcohol was hitting him hard and everything was tinged with just enough unreal that Aaron found himself smiling. Somewhere to his left, Nicky dared Renee to call Jean, put him on speaker, and quiz him about Jeremy. It was a pathetic dare in Aaron’s opinion, but she was a good sport, and soon, Nicky was busy swooning over french accents like the asinine idiot he was, and the rest of the team was just trying to shout over each other as loud as they could to see who could make Jean hang up the phone first.

Allison won. 

Then Renee dared Matt to balance two full shot glasses on his head which was equally pathetic.

The Foxes weren’t big on truths, because the Foxes no longer had anything real to hide. Aaron was mostly zoning in and out at this point until Matt pointedly called his name.

Aaron blinked his sluggish eyes open and was halfway proud of himself that he managed to see only two Matts instead of six. 

“Kiss him!” Matt yelled, pointing at Kevin, who was also slumped to the side and apparently just as far gone as Aaron.

The girls collapsed into peals of laughter, Neil looked between them, confused as ever, and Andrew’s eyebrows rose and he took another long drink, before a lazy smile curled around his mouth. “Can’t wait to see this.”

“Fuck you,” Aaron muttered, though he wasn’t sure if it was to Andrew, or to Matt, or to Kevin. 

“You know the rules!” Matt announced through laughter. “You don’t do it, you send a dick pic to Wymack! Kevin? Kevin!”

Something vile curled around Aaron’s insides, choking all the air out of him. He snuck another look at Kevin, who was blinking like he was just now aware of the group all watching. 

His cheeks got red when he drank, and his pupils were so big, Aaron could barely see green.

Somewhere in the background, the Vixens were chanting ‘drink, drink, drink’, somewhere in the background, Katelyn was laughing, somewhere in another life Aaron was a _person_ and not a _thing_. 

“Whatever,” he mumbled, leaning over.

Kevin was studying Matt, eyes narrowing as he parsed together the words, and just as Aaron nudged into him, he slammed the vodka bottle down and stood up, wobbly making his way over to the sink. “You’re all assholes,” he announced in a bitter, furious voice.

Aaron caught himself by one hand and pushed himself out of the space that Kevin had occupied, that something vile making its way right up his throat. 

“Dumped _again_ ,” Andrew said with a feral grin. “Must suck to know no one loves you.”

“Andrew!” Renee scolded.

Aaron was on his feet, Andrew was on his feet, Aaron tried to throw a punch but he missed by a solid six inches. 

Neil caught his arm and steadied him again.

“I hate you,” Aaron said, trying to be furious, trying to be halfway as terrifying as Andrew always managed to be. Instead, his voice just sounded small, and horribly sad.

 _Come on, Aaron_ , Nicky pleaded from behind him in German. _Just a joke._

“Yeah, Aaron,” Andrew said in pure, fuckhead English. “Joking.”

Everything was swaying dangerously and Aaron shoved past Neil to see Kevin standing at the sink, not watching, and Katelyn chugging beer, not watching. Matt had collapsed on the couch in laughter, Allison was rolling her eyes, Dan was drinking more, Renee and Nicky were watching Andrew carefully.

“Fuck you all,” Aaron muttered, then he tore his arm from Neil’s grip, grabbed the bottle of tequila, and tried his hardest to walk in a straight line all the way to the door.

***

The library was out because Katelyn, the roof was out because Andrew, the dorm room was out because fuck if he wanted to be anywhere near his teammates, and the med school study area, his only other hideout from the general public, was out, because the last time he was there, he was groveling at his professor's feet. He really didn’t need additional help in feeling worthless.

There were probably campus police roving about the college on a Friday after game night, but somehow, no one stopped Aaron and his ever dwindling bottle of tequila as he set off on foot towards the stadium.

The lights were on, the lights were always on, but the parking lot was mostly empty. Aaron keyed in the code and wandered down the long hallway to the locker rooms, well aware of the irony of him wandering his way back to the exy court.

Wymack’s office was dark, and the lounge was empty, so Aaron swallowed the last of the tequila, then threw himself on the couch and stared up at the darkness.

Everything was the bad sort of spinny. 

Sometimes, he wished he had pain pills. That was a high that would just knock you out, cut all the emotion from your bones, excise the hate, and the laughter, and the pain and the joy. It was equal opportunity. It left you with nothing but clouds.

It was so much easier not to feel anything at all.

Once, he’d been excited to learn he had a brother.

He’d thought that maybe, maybe after everything else, he’d have something solid. A twin didn’t have to love him, but they shared a fucking genetic code, they had to have at least enough in common that Andrew might be willing to throw out an arm and not let him drown.

It was pathetic how desperate Aaron had been for Andrew to stay.

Aaron closed his eyes and reached for the tequila, then remembered it was empty, then remembered that Katelyn didn’t want him either, then tried to stop remembering anything at all.

He listened to the _tick, tick, tick_ of the clock on the wall, and when his eyes fully adjusted to the darkness, he watched the reflection of it in the enormous flatscreen tv.

There were footsteps in the hallway.

Aaron didn’t have to move to know instinctively who it was. “Are you fucking serious,” he groaned at Kevin, then pulled off a shoe and chucked it towards the door.

Kevin dodged easily and drunkenly swayed his way over to the couch, throwing himself down, next to Aaron’s head.

“Why’re you here?” he mumbled.

Aaron considered kicking him, but it would take too much energy. “Go away.”

“This _is_ my away,” Kevin answered in that bratty Kevin voice of his that Aaron couldn’t stand. “You’re in my spot.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself your royal highness,” Aaron muttered, then rolled over and curled up, back to the couch and arms tucked in against his body.

Kevin didn’t say anything for a long while, and Aaron was just about convinced that he might be able to fall asleep without puking up a gallon of tequila when he finally broke the silence.

“Sometimes I hate them.”

Aaron carefully considered this statement, running it up and down in his fuzzy, inebriated brain. “The team?”

Kevin shifted beside him, and threw his legs up on one of the lounge seats. “Andrew. And Neil.”

That was a surprise.

“They’ll get distracted,” Kevin finally continued. “They could both make court. Now they’re too busy–” he made some awkward, shuffling movement with his hands. “Distractions.”

“You are such a fucking dumbass,” Aaron said, then he closed his eyes again.

“Just like you, with Katelyn. Distractions.”

“Big difference there, exy-boy. I don’t give two fucks about this sport.”

Kevin reached out and patted Aaron’s head, and Aaron was going to fucking murder him tomorrow morning when he had the energy to move. “That’s what Andrew said,” he murmured. 

Then he gave a heavy sigh and flopped down next to Aaron, close enough that Aaron could smell his alcohol-laden breath.

Close enough that Aaron could see the perfect black outline of the queen on his cheek.

Everything hurt. Every breath he took, every future choice he could see perfectly outlined in a brain that was almost as good as Andrew’s but would never be good _enough_ , every bad decision he’d ever made that had led him here, to this room, to this life. “I’m not Andrew,” he finally managed to grit out from lungs that were aching for air. 

“I know,” Kevin murmured.

He fell asleep first, close enough that Aaron could hear the thump of his heart. Aaron just kept watching the clock, tick, tick, ticking, time moving backwards in the reflection of the flatscreen.

**Author's Note:**

> NOTES ON ANDREW:
> 
> So, this is set canon adjacent to TKM kind of? In a world where Aaron goes to therapy once with him and then nopes out of it, and so they don't start their (very) slow healing process. Andrew still views him as having broken their deal, but Andrew also has Neil so he's got a decent sized serving of self hatred in the mix as well, because he's smart and he knows how unfair he's being to Aaron. And when Andrew enters self hatred stage: boom, he speaks words to cut, slice, destroy.
> 
> Aaron is also an unreliable narrator: he's not able to brush off Andrew's comments, and he's got years and years of trauma built up around desperately wanting to be loved. So when Andrew says that: if we saw another POV, it might not be construed as quite as caustic.
> 
> ***
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/agentcoop1)  
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> 


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